


What We Know Now

by roatk1



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-26 02:39:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roatk1/pseuds/roatk1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>3 months post 3x12, Ian returns to the south side after being discharged from the Army.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Three months had passed since Ian Gallagher had been home. As he slowly walked towards the house he had grown up in, he couldn’t help than feel that everything was somehow different. The closer he got, the more he could see that nothing had actually changed, the pavement leading up to the Gallagher house was still cracked and crumbling, the clasp on the gate had become jammed, like it did every winter for as long as he could remember and the third step from the top of the porch was still loose. The neighbourhood, the street, the house had not changed, but Ian knew that when he walked through that door, nothing was going to feel like it once had. 

“Ian!” Debbie squealed, before running towards her older brother and squeezing him as tight as she could. “Hey Debs!” Ian said, looking around the room for his other siblings. Fiona emerged from the kitchen, drenched in dirty dishwater and wearing a stained t-shirt, she gave Ian a pained smile before hugging him, “welcome home”. She was angry, Ian could tell this, but the combination of exhaustion, relief and the fact that she knew just how devastated her younger brother was meant that she wasn’t going to yell at him, not tonight.   
“Where is everyone?” Ian asked, unable to hide the concern in his voice.   
“Carl’s staying at a friend’s, Liam’s sleeping”. Ian’s heart stopped, “and Lip?” the moment of silence that followed seemed to last a lifetime, “he hates me, doesn’t he?” Ian wasn’t surprised that Lip wasn’t there to welcome him home, he had sacrificed Lip’s future for his own, his older brother had lost the chance to go to MIT, and it was all Ian’s fault. “He’s angry, I can’t blame him really.” Fiona stated as she began folding laundry. Ian could hardly stand it, the tension in the room was killing him. He wished Fiona would just yell at him already, that Lip would have just been there to punch him in the face, anything but this awkward tension and disappointment. 

After what seemed like an eternity of polite conversation and discomfort, Ian said goodnight to his sisters and went upstairs to his old bedroom. His baby brother was sound asleep. He had grown a lot more than Ian had expected. Something had physically changed while he was gone, Liam. He was comforted to know that there was one person in his life who wasn’t going to treat him differently or judge him for leaving, for taking Lip’s name and for lying; that was until he was lying in bed, thinking about a certain other person who had never judged him. The person he always thought about before he fell asleep. 

“Ian!” Fiona shouted from downstairs “you have a visitor!” Ian crawled out of bed and threw on the first clean outfit he could find. He stumbled downstairs, barely awake after a restless night’s sleep. Standing in the kitchen was a familiar face that was half covered by thick, black bangs and a lot of eyeliner. For the first time in a long time, Ian felt happy to be home. “Welcome home, loser!” Mandy laughed as she embraced her best friend. 

“Are you going to ask about him already?” Mandy asked after a few hours of catching up and a considerable amount of weed. “Ask about who?” Ian replied, trying to sound as offhanded as possible. “Who? Who do you fucking think?” Mandy sighed. She knew it’s all he had been thinking about the whole time they’d been talking. Ian leapt off the bed and turned away from Mandy, trying to avoid eye contact. ‘I’m not going to ask, because there’s nothing to tell. Unless you’re going to turn around and say that he’s divorced or that he’s no longer got the mentality of a toddler that can’t use their words?” Ian snapped, becoming frustrated with himself for still getting so worked up at the mention of Mickey Milkovich. Mandy sat in silence, waiting for Ian to calm himself down. “See, there’s nothing to tell” he grunted and sat back down on the bed. Mandy knew better than to keep the conversation going, it was obvious how much Ian was still hurting over her brother, and a part of her was relieved to see how much he was still in love. For the rest of the afternoon, Ian talked to Mandy about Lip and his family, about being discharged and how he was totally lost, Mandy talked about her dad going back to prison and what was happening at school and deliberately avoided any further mention of her older brother. 

When Mandy left that evening, everything went back to feeling awkward. Fiona was still acting distant, Lip was yet to come home and Debbie and Carl had gotten over their initial excitement of having their older brother back home. Ian was beginning to feel like a guest who had outstayed his welcome. He tried to get back into the Gallagher routine and help out, but it just made him realise that over the past three months, life had continued on the south side and his siblings had learned to function without him. After dinner, he couldn’t handle the tension any longer. “Back soon!” he called out as he rushed through the back door. Relieved to be out of the house, he strolled along his neighbourhood, recalling memories of places he had found Frank passed out, gotten wasted with Mandy, fought with Lip, and Mickey… well, everywhere was reminding him of Mickey. As he wandered back in the direction of the Gallagher house, he noticed a young man sitting in the gutter of the dimly lit street. This person was clearly in bad shape; Ian could smell Jack Daniels and vomit form a mile away. It wasn’t until he got closer that he could make out who it was. A sight like this was not unfamiliar to Ian, in fact it pretty much summed up his childhood, but seeing this particular sight caused Ian to feel an almost unbearable pain in his chest. Sensing that someone was standing behind him, the drunken young man turned his face towards Ian. His eyes almost rolling back in his head from intoxication, he took a moment to focus, before realising who it was that was standing in front of him.   
“Fuck, Gallagher?”


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

"Fuck, Gallagher?" Mickey slurred and tried to pull himself up out of the gutter, before stumbling and falling back down. "Jesus, Mickey!" Ian shouted, running over to assist the drunken boy.

"I'm fine!" Mickey insisted as Ian pulled him up and tried to help him walk.

"Fine? You're a fucking mess" he said, throwing Mickey's arm around his shoulder to guide him down the street, "let's get you home".

Mickey pulled away swiftly, "can't go home, the wife will lose her shit". Ian stomach turned instantly at the mere mention of Svetlana.

"I'll take you back to my place then," Ian paused, "you can sleep it off on the couch" he insisted practically dragging Mickey down the street.

"Your place?" Mickey grunted, "you don't live here, you fucking left". Mickey quickly pulled away from Ian and began to vomit profusely. Ian had seen Mickey drunk more times than he could count, he had seen him violent and angry and distant, but he had never seen him quite like this. If Ian didn't love the boy so much, he would have found him pathetic.

"Are you back?" Mickey murmured as Ian guided him into the Gallagher living room. He positioned Mickey on the couch and removed his vomit-stained singlet, revealing the pale, defined body that Ian knew so well. "Yeah Mick, I'm back" he replied, running his fingers through Mickey's short, black hair and waiting for him to fall asleep. He wanted to stay there all night, to lie down next to him and feel him breathe, but he knew that no good could possibly come of that. After Mickey had been silent for a while, Ian decided to head off to bed. He reached over Mickey's head to turn out the lamp on the end table, but caught himself gazing at a man that he once saw as strong and tough, now so vulnerable and broken. "I love you" Ian whispered as he turned out the light and headed towards the staircase. "I love you too," Mickey grunted before finally passing out.

Mickey awoke the next morning the way he usually did; with a killer hangover and the pain of knowing he'd dreamt about Ian Gallagher once again. The same dream every night for three months; Ian returning and Mickey telling him that he loved him. It wasn't until Mickey opened his eyes and the head spins ceased that he realised he was on the Gallagher's couch. Mickey racked his brain of the previous night's events; had he dreamt Gallagher's return once again or was Ian actually back from the army? How did he end up here? And where was his shirt? He could hear the younger Gallagher children getting ready for school. "Mickey Milkovich is asleep on our couch" Debbie informed Fiona who had just come downstairs.

"Jesus, since when did this house become a refuge for the Milkovich siblings., Ian emerged from upstairs. Mickey froze, he had seen Ian last night, but seeing him in the sober light of day, nothing he was feeling was being numbed by alcohol. The memories of the night before were coming back to Mickey in flashes, but seeing Ian triggered one memory he wasn't ready for; "I love you too". His heart sank into the pit of his stomach as he recalled his final words from the night before. "Fuck", he muttered under his breath. Maybe Gallagher didn't hear? Maybe he dreamt the last part? Maybe he could just slip out the door before Ian had a chance to say anything?

All the Gallagher's except Ian were now running out the door, heading off to school and work, and as each of his siblings left, Ian could feel the tension growing stronger. "How'd you sleep?" Ian asked as he sat down on the armchair next to the couch and handed him a cup of coffee. Mickey didn't reply; he just sipped his drink and starred straight ahead. He wasn't going to be fucked making small talk. "Why'd you come back?" Mickey snapped. It was painfully clear how much Mickey had been hurt by Ian's departure, though he would never admit it. "Got discharged… figured out that I used Lip's ID and sent me back. Can't enlist again". Mickey knew how much that must have been killing Ian, he didn't want the fucktard to get his head blown off by some towelhead, but he knew how badly Ian had wanted to be a soldier. "You were a dumbass to enlist in the first place!" Mickey taunted. Ian felt his blood boil, "yeah? Well you were a dumbass to marry some whore you hardly know!"Mickey pulled a crumpled cigarette packet out of his back pocket and lit a smoke, anything to avoid looking at Ian. "Is she really pregnant?" Ian asked quietly. Mickey nodded and took another drag of his smoke. Once again, Ian's stomach turned, making him feel a hundred times worse than any hangover Mickey could have. "Is it yours?"

Mickey stood up and pulled on his dirty singlet from the night before. "How the fuck should I know? It doesn't even matter… She's my family now, and so is the kid." Mickey shouted as he ashed out his cigarette, he wasn't going to discuss Svetlana and the baby with Ian, Ian left, just because he was sent home didn't make it any of his fucking business. "I gotta get home," he snapped and rushed out the door.

Ian sat in silence, Mickey Milkovich had told him he loved him, he was barely conscious, but he still said it. He had also called Svetlana his family, and Ian knew there was nothing more important to Mickey than family loyalty. Ian couldn't help but feel like everything had escalated during the months he was gone, the man he left behind was somehow more self-destructive and broken. Once again, Ian was left feeling just as conflicted as he had three months ago.


	3. Chapter 3

Five days had passed since Ian had seen Mickey; he had even brushed off seeing Mandy, knowing that any encounter with a Milkovich would leave him feeling conflicted once again. Not that avoiding them was keeping his mind clear; he mostly just lay around, replaying the events of the other night over and over in his mind. And while he was still avoiding Mickey, he was still being avoided himself. Lip had not stayed at the Gallagher house since Ian's return; he had come and gone a few times during the day, but had made no direct contact with his younger brother. Everything Ian was dealing with, he was doing completely alone. It's not that he wanted to run to someone and pour out his heart, but he missed the comfort of knowing Lip would be there if needed. Knowing that he didn't have Mickey or Lip, he gave in and decided the only person he could talk to, or even just be around, was Mandy. He decided to head over to the Milkovich house. Mandy had said that Mickey was now working as a mechanic, so he probably wouldn't be home.

As he knocked on the door, he was both terrified and hopeful that it would be the Milkovich boy that opened the door. But it was neither Mickey nor Mandy that answered, in front of him was a face he remembered so well, but she had changed. It had been months since he had seen her; Svetlana was now very obviously pregnant.

"You here to see Mickey, yes?" Svetlana asked casually. Ian was taken aback. "Ah no, Mandy. Is Mandy here?" Ian quickly replied, his voice quivering from nerves. Svetlana laughed "no, you here to see Mickey. He is working, but he be home soon. You wait". Svetlana practically pulled Ian inside and rushed into the kitchen. He sat down, feeling stunned. There was no way Mickey would ever tell anyone about their relationship. He couldn't share his feelings with Ian, he couldn't have told Svetlana. Could he?

Svetlana rushed over to Ian, handed him a beer and smiled. Ian felt even more awkward. She was being nice to him, what happened to the dead-eyed whore from six months ago? She was so much easier to hate.

"You went away, you back now?" Svetlana questioned. Ian knew he had no choice; he was going to have to sit there and wait for Mickey, meanwhile making small talk with his wife. "Yeah, back now".

Svetlana smiled again, this time there was slight sparkle in her eye. "Good, Mickey be much happier now".

Ian didn't say anything; he had no idea what or how much Svetlana actually knew and he didn't want to jump to conclusions. Svetlana sat down next to Ian, saying nothing, just starring and smiling. Ian took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, he had no idea what else to do and it seemed to cut some of the tension. "Shit, sorry!" Ian said, ashing the cigarette quickly and signaling her very pregnant belly. Svetlana looked confused "sorry?" she questioned, not even registering what Ian had done. "Never mind" Ian murmured, the two silently waiting for a Milkovich, any Milkovich, to return home.

An uncomfortable half hour passed before the front door opened. Mickey entered the living room, wearing a pair of blue overalls that were only just covered in more grease than his face. Seeing Mickey this dirty sent a nostalgic sensation through Ian's body. "Hey" Mickey said, somewhat softly, "whatcha doing here?" He could feel that Mickey was pleased to see him, and despite their last encounter, he wasn't surprised, after all, Mickey was the king of denial.

"I go out now!" Svetlana interrupted, "I be back much later!" bluntly excusing herself, she smiled at Mickey, feeling proud of her stealth. Mickey rolled his eyes.

"Just waiting for Mandy" Ian lied; the second he knocked on the door he knew exactly who it was he wanted to answer.

"At school! Where you should be!" Mickey uttered as he unbuttoned the top half of his overalls, revealing a clean, white shirt underneath, he tied the sleeves around his waist. Every action the Milkovich boy made was intoxicating.

"Since when do you care about school?" Ian asked, trying to break his gaze. Mickey looked at the ground and bit down on his bottom lip. Ian quickly tried to hide the grin on his face; it had been a long time since he had seen Mickey accidentally let his guard down.

"I have a meeting next week… about going back" Ian reassured him.

"So, about the other night…" Mickey started but was quickly interrupted.

"What about it?" he wasn't going to let Mickey tap dance around what was said, he wasn't even sure if Mickey remembered, he was wasted after all.

"Thanks…I probably would have woken up in the gutter if you didn't find me" Mickey laughed in an attempt to seem nonchalant.

"And since when is that something do?" Ian asked bluntly, his arms folded. Mickey could feel Ian's stare, but he continued to gaze aimlessly at the ground.

"Do what? Drink?" he snickered.

Ian let out a frustrated sigh, "Get wasted alone and pass out in the gutter?"

The anger swelling up inside Mickey forced him make eye contact again.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Considering who your father is?" Mickey barked and stormed into the kitchen to grab a beer, slamming the fridge door shut behind him.

"Yeah, my father, an alcoholic loser" Ian stormed after Mickey, unwilling to let this confrontation go. "Which I guess is just one step above your father".

Mickey smashed his beer down onto the kitchen bench,

"You shut the fuck up, right now!" Clenching his fists and practically turning every shade of red, he knew he either had to walk away or he'd break Ian's face. He stormed back into the living room, but once again Ian followed.

"I'm not going to shut the fuck up and you're not going to get away from me!" Ian bellowed, "What are you going to do, beat the shit out of me? Treat me like crap? Get married?"

The anger drained from Mickey's face in an instant, all that remained was the most pained look in his eyes. "I could leave" he replied.

Ian's heart stopped. All the pain and fear between them was now finally coming to the surface. Frank, Terry, Svetlana, Mickey's aggression, Ian's departure. They stood in silence for a good minute, neither one willing or wanting to break the gaze.

"You said you loved me… the other night!" he tested, but Mickey didn't look away.

"I know". The pressure swelled in Mickey's chest, but he maintained eye contact. He had never felt more petrified of anyone in his life, even his father.

Ian stood there in shock, unable to respond for what was only about 20 seconds, but the longest 20 seconds of Mickey's life. Ian's chest felt like it was ready to explode; unable to handle the tension, he launched towards the boy in front of him and pulled him close, their bodies' just inches apart. His hand on the small of Mickey's back, he pulled him even closer, forcing him onto his toes; their lips caressed. Ian felt the familiar warmth and softness of Mickey's breath against his lips, his grip tightening as the soft exchange turned. The combination of frustration and built up passion took over, a kiss that could be felt through every inch of his body which felt somehow familiar and exhilarating at the same time. Ian ripped Mickey's t-shirt from his chest and untied the sleeves of his overalls, allowing them to fall around his feet. He returned his hand to Mickey's back, unable to resist the temptation of kissing him again before removing his own clothes. Turning Mickey over the back of the couch, he reached around and ran his hands down the boy's torso, kissing the back of his neck. Their bodies coming together like clockwork. Like déjà vu, Ian had Mickey in the same position he had been six months earlier: loving, unguarded, vulnerable and bent over the Milkovich's couch.


	4. Chapter 4

Ian spent that night at the Milkovich house. Svetlana had returned later than night and Ian could only assume that the married couple had some kind of "don't ask don't tell" understanding; she was now sleeping in Terry's old room.

Ian was awoken the next morning by the blaring of Mickey's alarm. It was 6:30am and after very few hours of actual sleep, both boys were exhausted.

"Morning" Mickey rolled over, smiled and softly kissed Ian's lips.

"It's so fucking early!" Ian groaned and pulled his pillow over his head.

"Not for people who work, it's not" Mickey replied and got out of bed, gathering a set of work clothes that had so obviously been washed and folded by his wife. "Gonna go shower, you joining me Firecrotch?" He received no reply, just the light sound of Ian snoring again. "Lazy fucker" he joked and headed into the bathroom.

About an hour passed before Mickey was ready to leave for work. He sat on the edge of the bed and gently woke Ian. "Gotta head out, you ah… you gonna be here when I get back?" he asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"Yeah, I'll be here".

Mickey smiled and grabbed his keys and wallet from the dresser. "See ya then, fuckhead!"

Ian slept for eight hours straight, the first decent sleep he had gotten since returning to Chicago. He finally pulled himself out of bed and stumbled into living room room where Svetlana was folding laundry. "You're awake!" she smiled "I make food!"

She had already rushed into the kitchen before he had any time to respond.

"No, it's okay, I'll just grab some cereal" Ian called out after her, but he could tell it wouldn't be any use.

"I make you eggs. You need much protein!"

Ian snorted; she knew nothing of subtlety.

Fifteen minutes passed and Svetlana returned from the kitchen with eggs, toast and piping hot coffee. She definitely seemed to be embracing her change in persona; from whore to housewife in just a few short months.

"I go to the store, you need anything?"

He breathed a sigh of relief. She was nice, but overwhelmingly so and he couldn't help but feel awkward around her.

"Nah, I'm good…. Thanks".

Svetlana headed into Terry's room, returning moments later with her purse, giving him a huge smile and wave as she headed out the door.

Ian finished his breakfast; still feeling uncomfortable at the thought of Svetlana as some kind of live-in maid, he headed to the kitchen to wash up his dishes.

As he finished the washing up, he heard the front door open. Being slightly too early for Mickey to have finished work, he assumed it was Svetlana,

"You forget something?" he called out. Receiving no response, he dried his hands off on his jeans and wandered into the living room, completely unprepared for who had come through the door.

Lip Gallagher was standing in the Milkovich doorway; his face sprawled with a look Ian was all too familiar with, a callous combination of smirk and sneer.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" Lip barked as Ian approached him "Mickey Milkovich? After everything he made you do? You're back here? With Mickey fucking Milkovich"

Ian didn't really know what to do or say, he figured it was probably best just to let Lip scream at him. He deserved it after all.

"You fuck up everything and now you're back here with him? Playing house with his wife?" he scoffed and shook his head, "I hope the three of you are very happy together!"

Lip turned to walk out the front door and Ian knew he had to say something. "Lip, wait!" he pleaded, "I'm sorry, okay! I didn't… I didn't know…" .

Lip stopped and turned back around, "didn't know what? Didn't know that using my name MIGHT just have an affect on my life? Fuck you, Ian! Fuck you for leaving and fuck you for coming back and fuck you for running back to Mickey. You know what, you wanted to leave so badly? Abandon our family because of some piece of shit you were screwing? Well you really are Monica's son, except at least she's had the decency lately to fuck off and not come back. We don't need her and we sure as hell don't need you either".

Ian couldn't tell how much of this was Lip trying to hurt him or speaking the truth, but it sure as hell struck a cord. "I get it, okay. I fucked up. But it was my choice, don't bring Mickey into it."

Lip started to laugh "don't bring him into it? He's the reason it happened. Why I can't go to college, why you made some dumbass decision to lie your way into the army"

Ian was more than willing to let Lip hate him, but he was struggling to let Lip blame Mickey. Mickey had made his fair share of mistakes, but this was Ian's and he was going to own it. "It was because of me, Lip. I'm the reason you're not at MIT. So fucking blame me. And he didn't treat me any worse than you treated Mandy!" He regrated those words as soon as they left his mouth, not because they weren't true, but because Lip didn't deserve to hear them right now. The smirk returned to Lip's face before perfectly transitioning into a look of fury; he lunged towards his little brother and threw him to the ground, throwing punches in a fit of pure rage, barely aware of his own actions. Ian knew he could fight back, he was a lot stronger than Lip; instead he just lay there and let his older brother exhaust his anger.

"Fuck, Lip! Get the fuck off him!" Mickey had come through the back and found Lip attacking Ian. He grabbed Lip by the collar of his shirt and threw him as hard as he could, sending him flying towards the wall. Lip stumbled slightly before charging at Mickey, who had anticipated this response and threw him back up against the wall. "Hey, you need to back the fuck off!" Mickey shouted with his arm firmly pressed against Lip's throat. Lip looked back down, his younger brother barely moving, his face covered in blood, seeing him like this, Lip realised how far he had gone. Mickey released his hold and squatted down besides Ian, "you alright?"

Ian groaned and slowly sat up, "yeah" he murmured, "I'm okay" and staggered onto his feet.

"Go clean yourself up, I'll be there in a minute" Mickey led Ian towards the bathroom. Lip stood there in shock, trying to comprehend how he could have lost control like that. Mickey returned moments later, "what the fuck, Lip?" he shouted. Lip remained still and didn't respond.

Mickey drew all the self-restraint he had inside him and resisted urge to knock Lip out, "get the fuck out, right now" he sneered and from the malice in his eyes, Lip knew to take him seriously and headed out the door.

"You sure you're okay?" Mickey asked, handing Ian a bag of frozen peas.

"Yeah" Ian laughed "not my first time! "

Mickey knew Ian was just trying to make light of the situation, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. "You wanna talk or some shit?"

Ian shook his head and pressed the bag against his face.

"So he ah, he just snapped? After what, a week of avoiding you?" Mickey queried.

"Yeah, I guess so"

Mickey could tell Ian was lying, but said nothing. Instead he lit a cigarette and handed it to Ian.

"If he ever tries that shit again" Mickey started

"He won't"

"If he does, he's a dead man".


	5. Chapter 5

Lip Gallagher left the Milkovich home in shock; he had no idea how he could lose so much control of himself. He had anticipated that when he first confronted his younger brother, it would most likely be solved with some amount of violence, but he never foresaw Ian lying down and taking whatever he threw at him. Walking back through the Southside, he tried calling Mandy but could only get her voicemail. "Mandy, what the fuck? When you said I could crash at yours tonight, you didn't mention that Ian would be with Mickey! Fuck!" he yelled and hung up the phone. He had ran out of places to stay, he had been crashing with Fiona's boyfriend Mike since Ian returned and now the Milkovich's was clearly no longer an option; he'd have to go back home.

Lip stormed through the Gallagher kitchen where Fiona and Veronica were making dinner. "What the hell happened to you" Fiona rushed over, seeing the blood on Lip's knuckles. Lip froze.

"Lip, whose blood is that? …Lip!" she shouted, "are you hurt?"

Lip shook his head. "Mickey Milkovich!"

Fiona felt confused "you got in a fight with Mickey Milkovich?" she asked blankly.

"He's fucking Mickey Milkovich!" Lip muttered, sneering as he uttered the name.

"Ian?" Fiona queried, incredibly astounded.

Lip nodded "all of this, Ian leaving, it was all because him. And now he's back there at the Milkovich's as if nothing ever happened!" he screamed.

Fiona stood there in shock, not knowing what to think. "Did you get into a fight with Ian?" she asked, trying to remain calm. Lip stayed silent and Fiona knew exactly what that meant.

An hour later Ian came home. All the Gallagher's except Lip were gathered in the kitchen. "Carl, Debbie, go do your homework in your rooms" Fiona insisted.

"What's going on?" Debbie questioned.

"Just go upstairs… Now!"

The younger Gallagher children picked up their books and begrudgingly trudged up the stairs.

"You wanna tell me what's been going on?" Fiona asked, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

Ian sat down beside her, "it's really complicated Fi!"

Fiona sighed "here's what I know, you made a fake ID using Lip's name, you ran off and tried to join the army, then you got discharged and sent home and all of this has something to do with the fact that you're sleeping with Mickey Milkovich. You want to clear any of that up for me?"

Ian's stomach turned, "What did Lip say to you?"

"So it's true. He's married, Ian!" Fiona shouted.

"Yeah, because his dad made him! Because after he caught us together, he made Mickey fuck her. I couldn't handle it, so I left and Mickey… he was such a mess Fi."

Ian could barely look at is his sister, she was looking at him with those big, concerned eyes and that made him feel even more guilt.

"Ian! Why didn't you tell me any of this?"

Ian scoffed. "How could I? You have so much going on Fi; you're always taking care of everyone else. And then everything with Jimmy and Frank…"

"Fuck Jimmy and Frank! You're my brother. If you needed me…"

"I needed to deal with it myself. And I know what you're thinking, look where that got me."

Ian threw his hand over his face, not because he thought he would cry but he could feel all the shame and anguish he felt exposing itself. Fiona put her arm around her younger brother's shoulder and the two siblings sat in silence for a few minutes. Ian removed his hand from his face and finally looked at Fiona. Fiona gave Ian a pained smile "so Mickey Milkovich, huh? " she asked trying to hide the judgement and disbelief in her voice.

Ian smiled back "yeah. Mickey Milkovich. Don't ask me why!"

Fiona laughed and hugged her brother, "Lip's upstairs. You two need to get this sorted out Ian. We need each other, and I need the two of you more than anything!"

Ian headed upstairs where Lip's bedroom door was open. He was lying on his bed, starring at the ceiling, his headphones blaring so loud that you could hear the music from the door. He glanced over at Ian, feeling a pang of guilt at his younger brother's messed up face; he sat up and tossed his headphones on the bed.

"So, you and Mickey…you like back together or some shit?" Lip asked, offhandedly.

Ian nodded, "probably not for long if you keep running around telling everyone!"

Lip grabbed a joint from his dresser and lit it, "what changed?" he asked and handed it to younger brother who stood silently for a moment, not really sure how to answer.

"I don't know, man. Nothing. Everything" he replied and sat down on the bed next to Lip, handing it back to him. From then on, nothing else needed to be said. Ian wasn't angry at Lip for his actions that day and Lip knew that enough anguish between the two brothers had occurred, so that evening the Gallagher boys established an unspoken truce.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains material on stillbirth/miscarriage.

The words had been on a loop in Ian's mind for the last week;

"What changed?"

And every time they did, he made a long list in his head of all the things he loved about Mickey; all the reasons he needed him. Then there was the other list, the reasons he should cut and run. The second list was just as long as the first; after all, Mickey Milkovich was not without his faults, but Ian knew he could overcome all of them, except maybe one. Svetlana.

"What changed?"

The simple answer was nothing. Mickey was still married and despite whatever weird arrangement they had set up since Terry's incarceration, it was still a lot to take. So Ian headed over to the Milkovich's once again; Mickey wasn't going to like having this conversation, but he was finding it hard to give a shit, after all there wasn't a lot that he liked about the situation in general.

It was late in the afternoon when Ian arrived at the Milkovich house. He found the front door unlocked, assuming Mickey or Mandy would be home by now he let himself in. "Mick!" Ian shouted, wandering into the living room "you home?" Ian headed into Mickey's room, which was empty. "Mandy? Svetlana?" Still nothing. He shrugged and figured he would wait, sitting himself down in the living room. Had he moved, he would have noticed the abandoned, partially prepped chicken that Svetlana had been making for dinner. Or the pool of water and smashed glass on the kitchen floor. Or the droplets of blood on the carpet that stretched from the kitchen to the bathroom.

Ian had been waiting for about 10 minutes when Mandy rushed through the back door. "Ian! What are you doing here? I've been looking everywhere for you! I just came from your house! Fiona said you'd gone out!" she shouted and threw her arms around his neck.

"What's going on?" he asked, beginning to feel worried.

"Svetlana's in the hospital! I'm on my way there now," she cried, sounding extremely panicked; she dropped her school bag, rushing around the living room looking for what appeared to be nothing in particular.

"Mandy! Calm down. What happened?" Ian shouted, grabbing her wrists.

"Mickey called me while I was at school. They're at the hospital. It's the baby, there is something wrong with the baby!" she cried, unable to calm herself. "I hated her Ian. After the wedding, after what you said. I was horrible to her. If something happens to that baby I'll never…"

"It's okay, it'll all be okay. We'll go to the hospital and see them and it'll all be okay".

As they arrived at the hospital, Ian resisted the urge to run in and find Mickey, instead he maintained his composure and walked slowly with his arm around a very distressed Mandy. A part of him was frustrated with her for making this about herself, but he knew she was just scared. "We need to find a nurse or something, I don't know what room she's in!" Mandy cried, peering around every corner.

"No need." Ian mumbled and walked to the end of the long corridor.

Mickey was sitting in the corner of the waiting room with his head in his hands; his tattooed knuckles aptly spelling F-U-C-K across his face. "Mick?" Ian said softly. Mickey looked up slowly, attempting to subtly wipe the tears from his eyes and almost instantaneously trying to regain his tough, strong persona.

"Hey Gallagher," he muttered and stood up.

Ian put his hand on Mickey's shoulder, which felt far more uncomfortable than he had anticipated. He immediately thought to himself that it was such a stupid thing to do; it felt awkward and cold and wasn't helping in the slightest.

"Where's Svetlana?" he asked, "Is she okay?"

Mickey nodded.

"What about the baby?" Mandy demanded.

Mickey's eyes welled up again, "she lost it, there ain't gonna be no baby" he stated and then proceeded to storm down the corridor.

Mandy looked at Ian, the tears were pouring out of her eyes. As much as he wanted to comfort her, she wasn't the Milkovich who needed him right now.

"I'll go after him, maybe you should try and find which room Svetlana's in!" he instructed and rushed in the direction of Mickey.

Ian had been searching the hospital for a good ten minutes before he located Mickey, who had found his way outside. Ian sat down on the bench beside him and pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket, he lit one and handing it to Mickey. Mickey took it, but straight ahead.

"What the fuck happened, man?" Ian asked.

"She had a placental eruption or abruption or some shit. The doctor talked a lot of bullshit I didn't understand. All I got out of it is she lost a lot of blood… and the baby".

To anyone else, it would have appeared that Mickey Milkovich didn't really seem to care about the loss of his baby or the trauma his wife had experienced, but Ian could tell exactly how much pain the boy was in by how hard he was working to hide it.

"You okay?" Ian asked, regretting his question instantaneously.

"Fuck, Gallagher!" he shouted, beginning to get worked up before letting out a loud sigh, "I don't wanna do that, I just wanna sit here for a bit… if you want to stay, you can."

Ian let a pained smile slip onto his face, "sure Mick, I'll stay."

Ian had no idea how long they had been sitting outside for, but the sun had gone down and the Chicago night had grown colder, so the two boys headed inside and back up to the hospital ward where Svetlana was. They found Mandy in the waiting room, "She's sleeping and the cunt of a nurse wouldn't let me see her, said we should just come back in the morning. Do you wanna stay, Mick?"

Mickey shook his head and turned to Ian, "I wanna get the fuck out of here!"

Ian nodded and the trio headed back down the corridor, Ian placing one arm around Mandy as they walked and then the other around Mickey.

When they arrived back at the Milkovich house, Mickey darted into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. Mandy slowly wandered towards her room,

"You staying tonight?" she asked as she stripped down to just her t-shirt and underwear.

"Do you think he wants me to?" Ian asked.

"Of course he does. You know he'll never fucking say it! Anyway, who gives a shit what says he wants, do what he needs."

Mickey collapsed on the bed, still covered in grease from his half-day's work. Ian entered shortly after, knelt down and pulled off Mickey's shoes and socks, then leaned over and slid the oily, sweaty, tear-stained singlet over his head.

"Fuck off" Mickey said, his voice muffled as he turned his face into the pillow.

"Mick, Shut up!" Ian whispered into his ear and softly kissed the back of his neck. Mickey conceded, closing his eyes as Ian continued to undress him. As if parallel to Ian's first night back in Chicago, he watched the boy he loved fall asleep. Ian knew there was nowhere he could be but by his side. It would always come back to this, no matter how complicated things got, he would never truly be able to let go of Mickey; the boy was intoxicating. By the time he had gotten himself undressed, Mickey was fast asleep. Ian lay down beside him and pulled him in, close to his chest, and that night the two boys just slept, together.


	7. Chapter 7

The room was now practically empty. All of Svetlana's things were gone and all that remained was the stripped bed, a garbage bag filled with baby clothes and the dingy old crib, once resided in by both Mandy and Mickey, that had been given a fresh coat of baby pink paint just a few weeks before. After Svetlana had left, Mickey just closed the door and was acting as if none of it had ever happened.

Ian had received a text message from Mandy earlier that morning, asking him to come over and help take down the crib.

"This seems kind of weird. Did you ask him first?"

Mandy scoffed "are you kidding? He would have bitten my head off…if he was ever sober enough to understand what I was saying. Does he talk to you about it?"

Ian rolled his eyes, "he gets drunk, we hook up, he passes out" he said, grabbing a screwdriver and he began to deconstruct the last painful reminder of what Terry had manipulated for his son.

"You should make him talk to you"

Ian laughed sarcastically "I'm sorry, have you met Mickey? I can't make him do anything!"

Mandy began sorting through the baby clothes, "I have no idea what to do with all these. No one is going to pay shit for them. I could hang on to them, but that seems a little fucked up!" she threw the pile back in the bag, "may as well just toss 'em, just get them out of the house."

Ian continued unscrewing the crib, "I had no idea, Mandy!"

She tossed the bag into the hallway, "no idea about what?"

"No idea he cared this much… about the baby."

Mandy sighed, "Ian, you were gone for three months. A lot changed. He got used to the idea of having a wife and a kid. Having a family, one that wasn't as fucked up as the one he grew up with."

Ian threw the unhinged side of the crib against the wall, "so what, he loved her or something?"

"Of course he did, fuckhead."

Ian's face became panic stricken.

"He loved her like you love me. Like family. And he would've loved that kid, whether it was his or not."

Silently, Ian and Mandy continued to deconstruct the rest of the crib.

"I'll never understand that about you Milkoviches" Ian mumbled.

"Understand what?" Mandy snapped.

"You sure as hell have a fucked up interpretation of what a family should do for each other"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Mandy sneered, feeling her whole body becoming rigid. Who the fuck did Ian think he was?

"After what your dad has done, to Mickey, to you… you live by his every word. He tells Mickey to marry Svetlana and all of a sudden, she's family, why? Because Terry said so?"

"Grow the fuck up, Ian! God, have either of you two dumbasses learned anything in the last six months? He did all of that for you, you think you know my dad? You don't. He would have killed you. And you will never understand what the fuck I went through, you have no idea what it was like for my own father to do that to me, so don't you dare throw that in my face!" Mandy screamed and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her.

"Whadda ya doing here?"

At some point, Mickey had stumbled in, unheard.

"Shit Mickey, you scared me."

Mickey took a swig of Jack Daniels, "what… are you doing?"

Ian leaned the last piece of the crib against the others, "Mandy called, asked for my help."

Mickey nodded and skulled the rest of the bottle, "okay, get the fuck out of here."

Ian wiped the sweat from his brow and obliged, he wasn't in the mood to argue.

He was almost out the door when Mickey's words stopped him,

"You don't have to leave."

"Do you want me here or not?" Ian barked.

"Do whatever the fuck you want, I don't give a shit" Mickey slurred and slumped down the couch.

The lump in Ian's throat sank into his stomach, as he saw the weeks of progress that Mickey had made disappearing before his eyes.

"No. Fuck that. We're not doing this shit again Mick. Tell me you want me to stay."

"I said I don't give a shit" Mickey spat.

"TELL ME YOU WANT ME TO STAY!" Ian roared as he grabbed Mickey's shirt and pulled him onto his feet.

Mickey was so taken aback that he couldn't bring himself to say anything. Instead he just stood there, starring into Ian's eyes, almost begging for the help he couldn't ask for.

"I want you…" Mickey paused, 'to tell me what my dad did to Mandy".


	8. Chapter 8

It was about 11pm when Mandy finally came home. Though she had been crying hours beforehand, the redness of her eyes had all but cleared and the only evidence was a track of eyeliner that had lightly smudged across her cheek. Mickey had been sitting down in the kitchen waiting for her to come home since Ian left hours ago.

"Where you been?" Mickey's voice startled her, as she hadn't noticed him sitting there.

"None of your fucking business" Mandy said nonchalantly. Though there was no malice in her tone, she was just doing the best she could to talk to her brother as if nothing at all was wrong, "Ian still here?"

"Nah, left a while ago." Mickey answered and grabbed two beers out of the fridge, "you guys get into a fight or something?" he asked, unscrewing the tops and handing her one of the bottles.

"He's being a douchebag. Probably because you're treating him like shit again." She muttered, taking a swig of beer.

"Maybe. Or maybe it's because he brought up that dad had been molesting you."

Mandy almost spat the contents of her mouth in his face.

"It's true, isn't it?" Mickey asked, "Why the fuck didn't you tell me?"

"What was I supposed to say" Mandy whispered, her eyes welling up, "oh hey Mick, you know our dad, who you practically idolized your whole life. Well he's been getting wasted and fucking me for years."

Mickey's stomach turned "something like that".

Mandy took a cigarette from the pack lying on the table. "Yeah, like you told me about you and Ian" she said and exhaled.

"Fuck that, that's different"

"How is it different?" Mandy cried, her voice cracking as tried to choke back her tears.

"Cause… it just…"

"Because you and Ian, you're doing anything wrong. And you know it. Somewhere deep down, underneath it all, you know that Mickey. You haven't done anything wrong!"

Mickey exhaled heavily and took a long swig of beer, "well either have you. You should 'a told me!"

"You would have tried to kill him" she sobbed, unable to hold back any longer.

"And what then? You'd spend the rest of your life in prison? Or most likely, you'd fail and he'd kill you instead? He's already fucked up our lives enough."

He knew she was right. There was no way he could take on his dad himself. But there was no way he was going to let Terry come back and pull this shit again.

"Who else knows?" Mickey asked, "Just Ian?"

Mandy wiped her eyes and composed herself. "And Lip".

Mickey scoffed "Typical, fucking pussy."

"You're one to talk." Mandy laughed through her tears.

 

The next morning, Mickey got up early and called in sick for work before calling his family and both the Gallagher boys and told them to meet him at The Alibi Room.

"I'm gonna kill him" Iggy spat.

"Not if I get to him first" Joey muttered.

"No ones killing anyone" Mickey instructed, "first off, Mandy doesn't want you guys to know, secondly, unless you feel like getting your ass arrested, you're going to have a hard time getting to him".

"It'd be fucking worth it" Iggy snapped.

"Not if he kills you first" Ian proclaimed.

"Like you'd know? What the fuck are you even doing here, Gallagher?'

Mickey restrained his defensive instinct and

'He's here for the same reason we all are: to look out for Mandy. In six months, Terry's going to be released. I gotta let him know that he's not coming back here. And if he tries…"

"If he tries, he's fucking dead" Joey growled.

All the boys were in agreement, it was better for everyone if they ran him out of town, that way they'd only kill him if they had to.

"Good. We all agree then. I'll go up this afternoon and see him" Mickey stated.

"Fuck that, I'm coming too. I hate the piece of shit as much as you do!" Iggy claimed.

"No, you don't. I got my own score to settle. I'm doing this alone." Mickey ordered. Iggy and Joey hesitantly agreed and the party disbanded, leaving just Ian and Mickey alone.

"I'm going with you" Ian demanded, sipping the last dregs of his beer.

"Fuck off you are!" Mickey snapped, grabbing his wallet and keys and headed towards the door.

"You said it yourself, this is more than just what happened with Mandy. This is what happened to us as well!" Ian chased after him, adamantly.

Mickey turned around as they got to the door, "what are you gonna say to him? How's it going? Long time no see or some shit? You need to stay the fuck away from him."

They both headed out the door and Mickey unlocked his truck, Ian quickly got in the passenger side.

'You're not coming with me, Gallagher!" Mickey hollered, but Ian refused to move.

'I'll stay in the truck, but I'm coming with you Mickey".


	9. Chapter 9

It was the same prison he'd visited a hundred times. The same barbed wire fences and jaded prison guards that had treated him like scum since he was a child, but as he drove up, it was him that was different.

'You're staying here" Mickey insisted, though it came out like more of an order.

"I said I would, didn't I?" Ian said defensively.

"I know. I just need you to stay in the truck!" he said, almost pleading with Ian to comply.

"Mick, go! I'll be here for you when you get back." Ian smiled, placing his hand on Mickey's chest and softly uniting their lips; the kind of intimacy that still caused Mickey a great deal of anxiety gave him comfort in this particular moment.

'Back soon' he said, shooting Ian a half-smile as he exited the truck.

Mickey sat down in front of the glass partition and waited, the anxiety was building inside him as a lifetime of fear and abuse would soon come to a head. Minutes that felt like hours passed before Terry sitting in front of him.

"Nice o' you to come up and visit your old man" Terry sneered.

"Yeah, it's been a while I know. Had a lot going on" Mickey said coolly; the cocktail of rage, fear and sadness remaining internal.

"How's the wife?"

Mickey paused, 'she left, couple a' weeks back'

His father's face turned to a familiar rage, 'Whadda ya mean, she left?'

Mickey tried his hardest not to react, 'I'm not here to talk about that'.

Terry turned bright red and sneered 'not here to talk about that? You know our deal!'

'The deal's off!' Mickey said sternly.

Terry laughed maliciously 'oh the deals off? Then I guess when I get outta here, Gallagher's brains will be splattered across the pavement'.

That picture in his head made Mickey want to cave. The plague of his upbringing had always made Mickey surrender to his father's will; the family loyalty that had been drilled into him since birth. But Terry was no longer a part of the family that needed protecting; Mandy was.

Mickey swallowed hard 'You ain't coming home'.

Terry laughed again.

'I'm not fucking with you. I know what you did to Mandy!"

The colour drained from Terry's face, 'Don't know what you're talking about' he sneered.

'I'm talking about the fact that you were blackmailing me for who I was fucking and all the while you were fucking my little sister, you piece of shit'.

Terry smirked 'and what are you going to do about it? You think I'm scared o' you? You've always been a little pussy"

He was determined not to let the sting of his father's words get to him.

'Not just me. Iggy and Joey know too. And if you try to come back, it'll be your brains across the pavement. I don't care if I have to tell the whole fucking neighbourhood what you did"

'And what the fuck do you think they'd think of you?' Terry jeered.

Mickey smirked. 'Don't be fucking stupid dad. We both know you'd rather die than have people know that your son LOVES to take it up the ass. So if you don't want that to happen, when you get out of here, you better stay as far away from the Southside as you can".

When Mickey returned to the truck after about thirty minutes, Ian was eager to hear exactly what had happened. 'How did it go?' Ian asked.

'Fine' Mickey muttered, a cigarette hanging from his lips, 'let's get the fuck out of here.'

The drive back to the Milkovich house wasn't a particularly long one, but for Mickey it took forever. The two boys stayed pretty much silent the entire trip; while Ian wondered what had been said and how difficult things might be, Mickey was feeling exhilarated.

The minute they got home, Mickey hauled Ian into his bedroom, ripped of his clothes and pushed him onto the bed. Straddling the younger boy, he pulled of his shirt began kissing his neck, then his chest, before slowly running his tongue around Ian's perfectly defined abs and unbuttoned his jeans. Ian softly moaning as Mickey teased his tongue around Ian's balls, then slowly made his way up to the tip of his cock. An almost euphoric sensation washed over him; grinding their bodies together he pulled himself back up Ian's chest. 'I want you to fuck me so hard…' he whispered in Ian's ear.

Before he knew it, Ian had flipped him over and pulled his legs over his shoulders. The rush of adrenaline that Mickey was awash with had transferred itself to Ian, he ran his hands down the small of Mickey's back, and pulled him in close. Mickey threw his hands around Ian's neck and kissed him hard, leaving both their lips tingling. With one hand, Ian reached for the lube, gently fingering Mickey's with the other.

"Gallagher! Fuck me, already!" Mickey panted against his neck.

Ian obliged, thrusting gently at first, until Mickey screamed for him to go harder and harder. Hearing the boy moan louder than he ever had before, until finally he began to laugh intensely as he came.

"What so fucking funny?" Ian grunted at him as they finished.

Mickey once again started to laugh,

'Fuck you Terry, that one was for you!"


End file.
